I've had this idea since the series 8 finale and thought I'd take it from my notebook to my computer this afternoon and write it up properly – I hope that you enjoy it

Pillow Comforts

Clara hadn't slept on the TARDIS since she had started dating Danny Pink. It had felt wrong, to sleep in the home of another man when Danny was out there sleeping alone in his flat, no matter how platonic her relationship with the Doctor was. But now she was back with the Doctor, with no Danny to come home to, Clara thought that she would try spending the odd night back in her old room on the TARDIS. As a distraction if nothing else.

"Here we are again." The Doctor announced, spreading his arm out to welcome Clara back into her bedroom. "I've made some modifications, bigger bed, smaller bookcase…"

"Less pillows…" Clara added to his list. "What happened to the ones I had before?"

"Improvements Clara! Improvements!" The Doctor picked up the single pillow on the bed and brought it to her eye line. "This pillow, Clara, is what you humans call 'memory foam'. Of course the very idea that a plastic sponge substance can have any sort of 'memory' is ludicrous but it does work very well to keep the head and neck aligned whilst you sleep and thus! Helps to preserve your weak human skeletal system."

Clara smiled at his enthusiasm for a memory foam pillow and his concern for her weak human body and thanked him. She couldn't argue with his logic, or his concern for her spine and so busied herself with finding a pair of pajamas.

"I'm quite tired Doctor, I think I'll go to bed."

"Very well, sleep tight Clara Oswald", the Doctor hesitated for a second, Clara was obviously feeling a little down, his previous incarnation would have offered a hug, a kiss on the forehead, and tucked her into bed. But he felt it inappropriate, their relationship was different now and he didn't want to test the boundaries. The Doctor cast one last look at Clara and left the room.

Clara changed into a pair of pink and blue plaid pajamas. She blinked back tears as she remembered that Danny had loved these pajamas, how he'd called her cute as he brought her a cup of tea in bed one Sunday morning. She had protested that she looked anything but cute, with her usually sleek hair ruffled at the back and the remnants of mascara she hadn't managed to wipe away the night before smudged under her eyes. He had laughed, kissed her and said she would always be beautiful to him, no matter what she looked like. She craved that intimacy, the random touches of his hands on her shoulders, the way they would go to bed sleeping side by side but always end up cuddling in their sleep. Clara sighed and tried to push these thoughts out of her mind. She didn't want to go back to the sleepless, grief filled, nights of missing him. She needed to move on now.

Two hours later Clara lay staring at the ceiling, awake and unable to get comfortable. Her usual sleeping position, on her side, legs bent slightly and arms outstretched, now felt redundant. She felt foolish with her arms grasping at thin air, grasping the space where Danny would have been. Clara gathered the duvet together and hugged it close, trying to create something to hold but this pulled the rest of the duvet from her body, leaving her back exposed. She shivered, covering herself again. She may be twenty-eight years old but Clara knew the rules about leaving body parts uncovered during the night and she didn't particularly fancy being attacked by the monsters under the bed. Clara's next tactic was to turn her solitary pillow horizontal and try to use it as both a pillow and a hugging device. This worked for an hour or so but soon Clara woke with an ache in her neck and returned the pillow to its original position.

She drifted in and out of a light sleep for the next hour or so; different dreams plagued her, of reaching out for Danny and finding him not there. On a crowded high street, at a concert, in the sea. Clara's biggest fear was being lost and this was starting to manifest itself even more since Danny's death.

At 1am the Doctor prepared to go to his own room and get a couple of hours sleep. He didn't need as much sleep as Clara and preferred to stay up late rather than to rise early. Strange, as his previous body had preferred things the other way around. A nagging feeling told him he should probably check on Clara before he turned in, it was still early days for them after her return to the TARDIS and he was slightly worried about how quiet she had become.

Finding her room he crept in to find Clara laying on her side, a frown on her face and her bare arms curled into her chest. She mumbled in her sleep words that he couldn't make out but it didn't take a genius to see that Clara was resting far from easy. She twitched and stretched her arms out, her frown deepening as she pulled them back towards her body again. Then came a solitary word:

"Danny."

The Doctor didn't liked to admit his feelings but at this moment his hearts were breaking. He longed to fix Clara, to fix her feelings to sort out the sadness and pain. But he was a practical man and didn't know what to do to fix emotions, to fix love and loss. The Doctor turned from the room and disappeared, returning moments later holding a second pillow.

"It's not memory foam Clara and it won't help you keep your spine safe but maybe this will help," he whispered.

Delicately lifting her head with one hand, he repositioned the first pillow and gently laid her down again. That would keep her back perfectly aligned he thought with a smile. He then eased open her tense arms and put the second pillow into them. Like a newborn baby would when presented with an adult finger, Clara grasped the pillow, her face buried into the side, and her frown evaporated.

The Doctor stood back and smiled. He might not be able to fix the emotional things, but a good nights sleep was something he was able to provide.